Human Bonding

If we only had machines this intelligent...

I generally do my best to avoid human contact if at all possible. If I had my way, I'd be on a mountain top in Big Sky country, living in a technologically advanced home somewhere between the Unabomber's shack and Coeur d'Alene territory. Is there a reason for it? Yeah, I'd say so. i mean, I'm not some anti-establishment crazy with a manifesto but I don't know if I should be classified as a loner either... I'm happiest when enjoying a busy solitude, but I don't go out of my way to avoid the company of others (not always). It's probably best to say that I'm a societal misfit mentally unprepared to share the world with the rest of its inhabitants... or something of that nature.

For those of you that don't know me too well, I'm not a big fan of people... I arrived at the University of the Bubble a lifelong introvert nearly void of true social skills and little desire to acquire any. However, over time, I grew into a reluctant extrovert and can now navigate my way through our social scene with relative ease. But being social doesn't make me any less of a misanthrope. Let me be clear - it's not that I possess some kind of hatred for mankind or anything... One on one, I really enjoy talking to other people - observing life and laughing about it with them, expressing my views and listening to theirs, and all that other interactive crap. But unless I'm on my 8th Guinness and 5th shot, I simple dislike people when they're all bunched up in one place. On those rare occasions that I'm coerced into becoming part of a crowd while the sun is still up and the kegs aren't tapped, there is one activity on which I can rely to make the experience more palatable: mocking others.

The grocery store is probably the best place for this... you get to walk around with a cart for as long as you wish, watching people as you go, ridiculing them in your mind, and at the end of the day, no one is the wiser. "That girl isn't watching me pick my nose... she's looking at brownie mix." If I'm heading to Martin's or Meijer, I take a moment to mentally prepare myself for all the observations I'll have to do once inside... so many flaws on so many people - it's a hater's dream. Oh stop it - I'm exaggerating - I'm not picking everyone apart. It takes a discerning eye to spot the true gems, but I usually cop out and focus on the people that cough on me or make small talk in line. And what's so wrong with that? I'm sure most of you will agree that observing people (though disconcerting) can be a fun, fascinating experience. Much to my initial amusement, this was the day that every malcontent, half-wit, weirdo, miscreant, and goof ball within 50 square miles was at Meijer. How do I know that? It's a simplistic formula. Examine the ratio of tattoos and less teeth to people. [Factoring in the sightings of black lipstick/eyeliner/eyeshadow, acid washed jeans, and mullets can lead to more accurate results]

In any case, I visited the store to pick up Doritos, shredded cheese, Coke, and other supplies, as Boy and I had plans for a nachos and movie night. My ineptitude in grocery stores usually guarantees that I'm there for about an hour, so I try to carve a little space for it into my afternoon. This day was no different. Though I saw many amusing individuals, I couldn't help but notice 8 mothers, each saddling 4+ children under 6 years old. They were peppered throughout the store but the similarities were uncanny. Each mother carried the same disheveled, chain smoking, Natty Light drinking appearance.. I wasn't surprised by this nor was it amusing.. What struck me was the fact that each of these ladies had children. There is a man (or men) out there that each managed to either charm or trap... this man found her at least attractive enough to do his business... and worst, this man found it completely unnecessary locate a condom, opting instead to go bareback. Having passed the 7th mother/litter of this variety, I stopped cold in my tracks pondering the madness when I smelled a strange combination of gas, Valvoline, and antifreeze...

Sterling Marlin racing jacket, no front teeth, and a mullet with a 2 foot party in the back (revealed as he took off his Budweiser cap). I immediately craved Skoal and fishsticks. Though the mother had a baby of a rather surly disposition on her hip [I'm convinced this baby was completely aware of what was to come in life and was only too pissed that he lacked the verbal skills to express his discontent], Captain Skoal squeezed her butt and slid his tongue out. She did the same... Suddenly their tongues, spastic and determined, played about each other in midair.. sliding, probing, oh God stop it!! Before I could vomit, the Nicotine Avenger, pulled her closer (smashing baby) and fully enveloped her face with his lips. I felt a cold chill run up my spine and had the urge to turn and run, but I realized that there was no where I could go. You see, they were making out in front of the Doritos - the only item I needed. I could interrupt them but that would mean getting close and exposing myself to potential infections and viruses. I'm too much of a germophobe for that. Or I could leave the aisle, meaning their unkempt love would win! Instead, I focused on Jerry Seinfeld's Theory of Datability. It posits that only 5% of the world's population is actually datable...ETOH is responsible for the rest. I've long agreed with that assessment... until now. Though I only spotted a couple hundred people in Meijer that day, I think it was a perfectly reasonable sample size to conclude that the rate of undatability is closer to 98%. Overreaction? Possibly. But had you been witness to the mass outpouring of filthy, sexual weirdness as I, you too would have been scared bloody shitless and would have gone running back to your privacy cocoon.

Check on me around the first thaw. I might be ready to come back out by then.